


When Fate Gets It Wrong

by thekingslover



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3114779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor knows at seventeen that he will love Oliver Hampton for the rest of his life.</p>
<p>But he also knows that Oliver won’t. He can’t.</p>
<p>Connor wasn’t born with a name anywhere on his body. His soulmate can be whoever he wants.</p>
<p>Oliver has a name on his wrist. Jon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Fate Gets It Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my coliver tumblr sideblog, 'monicashipscoliver'.

Connor knows at seventeen - when he leans over and whispers in Oliver’s ear, “Meet me in the janitor’s closet in ten minutes,” just to watch that blush spread across Oliver’s face - that he will love Oliver Hampton for the rest of his life.

But he also knows that Oliver won’t. He can’t.

Connor wasn’t born with a name anywhere on his body. His soulmate can be whoever he wants.

Oliver has a name on his wrist. _Jon_. He hides it with a leather band Connor bought him for Christmas with _Connor_ inscribed across the top. The _N_ still pokes out along the side.

Connor stares at it more than he should.

*

"It’s just a name," Oliver says as they walk home from school together. They live three blocks apart. Connor always walks Oliver to his door.

Connor shoves his hands in his pockets. “It’s your _soulmate_.”

"I love _you_.”

"Only because you haven’t met this guy yet," Connor says. He shakes his head. "He’s probably a rocket scientist. Or _shit_ , an actor or something. What if he’s hot?”

Oliver laughs. It only makes Connor feel marginally better. “I don’t care if he’s hot.” He weaves his arm through Connor’s. “ _You_ _'re_ way hotter.”

Connor bites his lip. He watches the grass along the sidewalk. “You haven’t even met him yet.”

"It won’t matter."

*

At graduation, Oliver kisses Connor and promises, “I only want you.”

He gives Connor a pendant with his name and a chain.

Connor holds him until he starts to cry. Then he pushes away and hides his tears behind his hand.

"It won’t matter," Oliver says again.

Connor doesn’t believe him.

*

They go to separate colleges. They see each other on the weekends.

At the start of the second semester, Connor gets a text from Oliver that reads, _I met Jon._

Two weeks later, a phone call. “Jon wants to try a relationship.”

Connor’s heart sinks to his stomach. His fingers go numb. He sits outside of himself as he asks, “What do you want?”

"I made a promise to you," Oliver says, like that’s somehow supposed to make everything better. Like that doesn’t really mean, _I tied myself to you as a teenager and now I can’t go out with my soulmate_.

"Consider it forgotten," Connor says and hangs up.

Oliver calls sixteen times that night. He leaves sixteen messages. Connor turns off his phone without checking them.

The next day, he still wears the pendant. He knows he shouldn’t. He looks at it, plays with the clasp, runs his fingers over Oliver’s name.

He slips it on.

The phone rings. _Oliver._

Connor goes to the store and changes his number.

*

It’s six am. Someone’s knocking on his door.

Connor waits ten minutes, but the person keeps knocking.

Groaning, Connor rolls out of bed and rubs his eyes. They’re sore. He didn’t sleep last night, or the night before.

He misses Oliver.

In just his boxers and a t-shirt, Connor unlocks the door and throws it open.

"I drove all night." Oliver looks rumpled. Clothes wrinkled. Hair disheveled. Dark circles hang under his eyes.

Connor blinks, but Oliver doesn’t disappear.

Oliver tugs nervously at the shoulder strap of his bag. There’s a bandage on his wrist, over Jon’s name.

"I have something to show you," Oliver says.

Connor blocks his doorway. “You shouldn’t be here.” He swallows down the rising lump in his throat. “You should be with your soulmate.”

Oliver huffs out a frustrated breath and rolls his eyes, just like he always does when he thinks Connor is being an idiot.

"What?" Connor snaps, defensive with the pins pricking his heart. Not for the first time, he wishes his name was Jon. He points at Oliver’s wrist. "He’s yours. It says so right there."

Oliver’s brows go up. “Really?” He drops his bag to the floor. His fingernails dig under the bandage and rip it back. “Look again.”

His skin is red, irritated. The tattoo is fresh, raw. But written across Oliver’s wrist is _Connor_ , albeit with a very large _C_.

Connor can’t find his breath. That’s his own name. Right there. On _Oliver._

"Destiny got this one wrong," Oliver says. "So I made it right." Brown eyes wide and glassy, full of fragile hope, he asks, "Is it okay?"

Connor laughs but it breaks right away. The hurt’s too recent. The relief  is too strong.

Reaching out, Connor grabs Oliver’s shoulders and yanks him close. He buries his nose in Oliver’s neck.

Oliver holds him tight. He whispers, “Is it okay?”

Against Oliver’s chest, Connor replies, “It’s perfect.”

*

They don’t venture far from Connor’s bedroom for the rest of the weekend, except once, to visit a tattoo parlor.

Connor gets Oliver’s name written on his chest, close to his heart.

"I love you, too."


End file.
